


White Queen (As It Began)

by VasaliaTheWise



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cinderella moment, Dancing, Dresses, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Freddie is a gay fairy godmother, Happy Ending, JUST GET TOGETHER, Makeovers, Parties, Shyness, White Queen (As It Began), ballgowns, balls, fairy tale, get ready for some uwus, he's the gay fairy godmother that we need but dont deserve, twice shy, white queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 17:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21413872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VasaliaTheWise/pseuds/VasaliaTheWise
Summary: You are swept off by your friend Freddie to attend his costume ball for the night. You encounter a certain bassist who is usually quiet but it seems tonight he's talking a little more...
Relationships: John Deacon & Reader, John Deacon/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	White Queen (As It Began)

**Author's Note:**

> Initially written for a contest. It was based on the song White Queen (As it Began) as a prompt. Enjoy!

“Darling, you are going to my ball tonight or I will drag you by your hair!” Fred was declaring as his car was pulling up to Garden Lodge. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were looking down at your hands folded on your lap. Creamy, clean insides of cars were still something you had to get used to, being a close friend of none other than Mercury himself.

“Fred…It’s just…” you mumble.

“I know you don’t normally like to go to my parties, Y/N, but you can’t cower anymore!” he said with a little huff. The car was slowing to the front and Fred was saying his thanks to the driver.

To think that twenty minutes ago, you were canceling to Freddie via the phone. There was a click and you were preparing for a quiet evening. A limo outside honked with your whistling tea kettle. 

Now here you were. 

Thanks to Working early in the morning, you felt drowsy. The thought of being crowded in a room full of loud, obnoxious people lining up for crack buffets was unappealing. If you showed up tomorrow hungover you would have to kiss your job goodbye.

Besides, there was the matter of Fred’s friends altogether. You met the band members several times prior. The tall guitarist and the blonde drummer had their constant moments of explosion with Freddie joining in until it was a pure cacophony.

Then there was their bassist. He would only nod politely and gently strike the strings of his instrument. But he hardly said three words together. When with you especially he seemed especially shrunk and unwilling to speak.

What other sorts of wild guests would come to the party? Hosted by the only person you were close with? 

Exhausted misery was creeping inside you.

Fred dashed over to the other side of the car and led you out. Your arm looped around the dark leather of his jacket out into the cool air. Stepping up to the entrance, he opened the door courteously to show you into Garden Lodge.

“But Fred…what if I don’t like it?” you ask. Echoes of your voice drip around the front parlor.

“You’ve never been to one of my parties, how can you say if you don’t like it! Besides, it’s different this year-it’s a bloody costume ball! There will be dancing and champagne and everything you could dream!” Freddie cheered. He gave a smile that reached both of his cheekbones.

The clicks of your shoes against the tile floor kept the rhythm of your wandering. A delicate chandelier crinkled over you. Directly under it was a vase full of yellow roses beaming like beads of sunlight. What sunlight there was now began to fade through the wide windows of the house, dripping the place in orange light.

“It does…sound wonderful. Like a fairy tale” you coo.

“Well, I always wanted to be your fairy godmother, Y/N. You do so much for others. And me. I thought you deserved to have some fun. A shame if you missed the chance to live a fairy tale, darling Y/N.” Freddie compliments.

You walk over and greet your hellos to the staff polishing the place spotless for tonight. In their white suits and dresses with black bows, they were like reverse penguins. Fred would shake their hands, call them by their first name and “darling” and occasionally pop out a little present from his pockets for them to open later.

You looked around at the extravagant house. In just mere hours, there would be an army of people dripping in jewels, satin, and lace all over them. Your formal dress from your high school prom was sighing in a bedroom closet under your parents’ roof.

Fred leads you to up his grand staircase. You glance down at your dark blue t-shirt and jeans. Your face gets hot.

“Freddie…” you start, stopping in between two steps. He turns his head back and takes a step back to be at your level.

“I…I don’t have anything to wear. I don’t think any of the nice shops are open now. They’ll all laugh at how…ugly I look” you mourn. You start to notice how muddy your sneakers have gotten compared to the crisp whites of Freddie’s.

Fred gasps a little with a large “What? Nonsense, Y/N, don’t you dare think like that. Did someone say that? They’re an idiot and I’ll hit them” he insisted.

You give a little smile. Leading you up to the top, you see a hallway with four doors. he points to the door at the end to the left.

“That’s the guest bedroom. Well, for tonight, it will be your room. You’re sleeping over here tonight, you and anyone else you bring upstairs. I provided condoms, too” he informed cheekily.

“Fred!” you exclaim.

“Just in case! I’d rather you be safe! And darling…” he leaned over to your ear. You could feel his giddy, childish excitement bubbling up, ready to burst any second.“I bought a gift for you. For tonight. It’s on the bed. You’ve been an angel to me these past few years, through everything. I thought I might do something in return. And you don’t owe me a penny” he affirmed.

You walk to the guest bedroom and curiously opened the door. You saw a large white box, wrapped up in silk, silver ribbon laying on the large, pink canopy bed. It’s almost the size of three of the white, lace pillows. 

You undid the ribbon gingerly, opened the lid, and were speechless. 

You heard Fred’s fingers tapping against the doorframe in excitement.

“Darling, your stylist will come to help you in five minutes. As my bonus…” he gushed.

With the stroke of nine o clock, Freddie swept you in your gown among the guests down the stairway. It went a little quiet. You were wearing your gift from Freddie, a white ball gown with a crinolined, puffy skirt, a delicate sliver that puffed out from the sleeves dripping down to reveal your shoulders, collarbone, and neck in only little clouds and was dripping with small silver sparkles. There were endless layers on the skirt, and you had to ask Fred to help you put it on. It almost made a swish sound whenever you moved. Sparkling silver heels embraced your feet. There were also little star jewels that the stylist tucked into your half-updo.

Fred insisted you wait until he himself entered. You found out that you would be walking down the staircase together, looking almost like a couple in a melodramatic wedding. With Fred’s long, black cape, Victorian-era black suit, and black fedora, it pulled off seamlessly. In one hand he held a stick that placed a threatening white mask on the end. But his beaming face expressed otherwise.

You noticed there was a pair of green-brown ones tracing your every step. Familiar. Quiet. Soft. Ignoring those, Freddie indulged the gaping crowd by waving an arm and bowing down low enough to touch his toes to applause. The chatter continued and heads turned away.

“It wasn’t just for me they were silent for, darling” Freddie complimented with a wink.

You felt his arm tugging you across the heads of people, red, gold, silver, and blue bodies. Sometimes there were masks - some ranged from plague masks with daggers for noses to delicate lace masks that blended like veins into their skin. Crinkling skirts covered the hall. Violins and cellos plucked out complicated Mozart lines like breathing. Bodies pressed against your wide skirt. Cigar smoke drenched the air.

Greeting everyone by name, Freddie’s arm nearly strung you around until you saw the eyes you felt earlier. Taller than he looked in pictures, his eyes that crinkled despite his youth as he gave Fred a smile and stopped it midway when his fluffy reddish-brown head turned to you. He was decked in blue trousers and a puffy-sleeved blue shirt opened to reveal his pale chest and long pants the same color of blue. He had a silver vest too large for him kept barely straight with pins. A silver crown rested on his head. Freddie nudged you with him. 

“Deacy, this is Y/N. Y/N, Deacy-or just call him John, if you’d like”.

“I met you before! You’re the bassist!” you exclaim. As you offered your hand to shake his, he took it hesitantly. His hands were sweaty.

Freddie nudged John and said “start off with your thoughts on Flash Gordon! He’s an expert!”

A raspy voice suddenly shouted “Freddie!” and he turned, with a dramatic swish of his cape, with an excited “Rog!” and jogged off.

You two stared at each other. Deacy bit his lip.

“Y/N” he stuttered, his northern twang slipping out “who…where is the bathroom?”

“It’s down that hallway,” you said, pointing “to the right.”

He nodded at you and gave you a smile as thanks before walking away. Something about it, the gentle way he carried himself, the shyness of the nod, and his sweet smile made you feel a little dizzy.

It was ten minutes until you were already sweating. You couldn’t find the refreshment table, no one seemed to want to talk to you, and it was too loud to think. With the crowding and the heaviness of your gown, you needed air. You turned your head to see the glass door. 

You make your way to the entrance of the garden. You slide out, relieved for the bit of clear air. It was falling to night-time. The garden was filled with rose bushes of yellow, red, and white like luminescent gems. You bend down to see the tulips for a bit and sniff them. A lovely break from the stench of tobacco. Now there was only the faint sound of cars and the muffled sound of the party. You walked a bit, admiring the flowers.

“Bloody hell.” Someone sighed.

You let out a little yelp and in surprise, you tripped on your skirt and fell, your hands landing on the dirt and your nose grazing grass.

“Oh! Y/N! I’m so sorry!” John apologized. 

He had been right behind you and did not see anything until you screamed. Feet rushing over he helped you up. John noticed the sight of your hand grabbing his arm and immediately retracted. He bit his lip and kept his eyes down.

“Are you okay? And your dress?” he pondered. 

You turned over to a green stain on your white balloon of a skirt.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, you must…” he said. He began to hide his face in his hands.

“It’s alright, John” you insist…maybe you can fix it. 

You glance over to notice some red roses in full bloom.

“Could you get one of the roses and help me pin it over the stain, please?” You ask. You start to wheedle a pin from your special hairdo. 

“Of course!” John insisted.

He rushed over and plucked it out easily. The attachment of the rose over your grass stain was so tender you fought back a smile.

“I’m sorry…but earlier, I knew already where the bathroom was.” He confessed as he bent down to start pinning the flower.

“Really?” you ask.

“I…I always notice you around Freddie. I know we met a bit before. And, he talks about what a kind person you are. And… I thought, maybe you really fancied him and that there was a slight chance he fancied you back, so you were…I want to talk to you but…I’m pathetic, I’m sorry, I don’t even know how to approach you and tonight…well, it was especially hard because…. you really do look lovely” he said. 

His eyes kept down as if he was daring himself not to stare right at the sun.

The secret smile of yours wins.

“Fred and I are just friends, John, thank you… for the flower, and pinning it up too…and the compliment, I mean. It’s nice to talk to you” you say.

John finally looks up in your eyes. Electricity burns inside you.

“I…I’m afraid I never really knew what to say with you, I don’t like small talk” he blurts.

“Well, we could start with what our favorite colors are…or Flash Gordon, or Fred” you offer with a toothy grin.

You hear violins sweeping out a ¾ melody. People inside the building begin rushing over to the biggest room. You can even make out Fred’s cheer of “who doesn’t love a good waltz, darlings!”

You grab his hand, every bit as soft and sweet as you imagine. And a little less sweaty now.

“But first, can I have one dance with you?” you plead. 

He nods and you both run inside in time.

It would be a better night than you thought. You didn’t know how much time you would spend with him. Goodbyes would eventually be exchanged. Now you wanted to savor every second.


End file.
